


whenever you want to begin, begin

by ALovelyLitwit



Series: and while i'm in this body [1]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M, Reunion Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28735659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALovelyLitwit/pseuds/ALovelyLitwit
Summary: Greg drags Kyle and Michael to another open mic night.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: and while i'm in this body [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2109843
Comments: 37
Kudos: 145





	whenever you want to begin, begin

**Author's Note:**

> Will this be the first part of an ongoing series? Maaaaaaaybe.

Two open mic nights in the span of two months feels like two open mic nights too many. Kyle agrees with him as Greg sets a pitcher of beer in the middle of the table and hands each of them a glass. ‘You both damn well know this isn’t just some bullshit open mic night.’ He drops into his seat, openly glaring at them.

‘Yeah, maybe. But Alex didn’t invite me.’ Michael pours himself a full glass and takes a long pull on the cheap beer. ‘Or maybe the invitation just got lost in the mail, right Gregory?’

Kyle snorts and Greg continues to glare. ‘He wants you here.’

‘How would you know? Two months of randomly showing up hardly makes you an expert.’ He downs the rest of his beer and sets his glass aside. ‘I have a feeling I’m going to need something stronger.’

‘Jesus, you two already bicker like in-laws.’ Kyle reaches across the table for the pitcher, glancing back and forth between them, nodding like some sage old wise man.

‘What’s that supposed to mean, Valenti?’

‘It means that we’re going to be family one day, Guerin. Probably a lot sooner than either one of us imagines. And I’m pretty sure you’ve imagined it quite a lot.’

‘Fuck off, Greg. Who died and made you matchmaker?’

Kyle snorts again, hiding behind his beer. Michael narrows his eyes at both of them and then stands abruptly, jarring the table enough to knock Kyle’s elbow loose, spilling a fair amount of his beer in his lap, accentuated by colorful protest. ‘I don’t even know why I came.’

Greg grabs the sleeve of his jacket, staying him in place. ‘You came to see Alex. That hasn’t changed so stop being dramatic and sit down.’ 

Kyle tries to soak up the spilled beer with a couple of feeble napkins. ‘God, you’re both so alike. Sharp tongues and asshole attitudes. Brothers, through-and-through.’ 

Michael sits back down knowing he never had any real intention of leaving. No one else needs to know that, although he suspects they both know anyway.

Greg drinks half his beer before speaking again. ‘You’re right. We are alike. Which is how I know what I know. He’s tough, hard to love, a selfish dick at times. I also know he’s working on it.’

‘I can verify that part.’ Kyle leans forward, a slow smile spreading across his face. ‘He’s been going to therapy regularly once a week for the past month.’

‘We both have.’ Greg’s gaze shifts to the makeshift stage, and Michael follows his line of sight. A woman with a clipboard is helping Alex move his keyboard off some wires. He looks good, black jeans and tight navy t-shirt. Simple, easy to remove. He shakes his head and tries to drag his eyes away with zero success. And then Alex looks up and catches his eye and they both freeze, deers caught in beer-buzzed bar lights.

‘Kyle and I are going to go get those stronger drinks.’ They leave and Michael hardly notices. He’s way too busy climbing out of his own seat, pulled to Alex in a way that is always so familiar and yet still utterly breathtaking.

‘Didn’t expect to see you here.’ There’s bite to his words, but there’s always bite. At least initially. Michael has learned that much over time, that Alex has certain reflexes he finds hard to control. He wonders if that’s the kind of thing he’s working on in therapy.

‘Yeah. Well. Like I told your brother, I guess my invitation got lost in the mail.’ He tries for bite too and fails. 

‘I didn’t know how much interest you’d have in another one of my performances.’ Michael winces at the implication, and Alex’s face instantly crumples. ‘I didn’t mean that. Really.’ He stuffs his hands in his pockets and takes a deep breath. 

‘It’s okay.’ He looks back over his shoulder. Kyle and Greg have returned to the table, outright staring at them. Neither stops even knowing they’ve been caught. Kyle just raises his tumbler of whiskey in mock salute.

Alex clears his throat. ‘I should warn you. Greg’s been on a bit of a rampage lately. Thinks he knows what’s best for me.’ He drops his eyes. ‘For us.’

‘Yeah, I picked up on that. Pretty sure he’s convinced Valenti to play along.’ He smiles, attempting to salvage something from this conversation.

Alex raises his chin, meeting his eye again, and Michael notices the telltale defiance hardening his features, squaring his shoulders. He braces himself for impact. ‘But don’t let him get to you. Really, Guerin. I’m sure you have better things to do. Feel free to get back to your life.’

For perhaps the one-millionth time, Michael watches Alex turn away, watches his shoulders collapsing. And it makes him angry. So angry that this is still the fucking game they’re playing. So he changes the rules. 

‘You _are_ my life.’

Alex pauses, shoulders tensing again. When he starts to spin around, turning on his left heel, the world slips into slow motion. The Pony’s patrons disappear and it’s just him and Alex beneath the dim smokey lights.

‘What?’

Michael sighs and raises his palms in exasperation, dropping them against the tops of his thighs, loud and frustrated. ‘What do you mean _what_?’ 

He swallows visibly, throat flexing. Michael wants to end all this nonsense, step forward, and trace the movement in Alex’s neck with his tongue. And he knows it’s the same for Alex, his own eyes dropping to Michael’s mouth, pink tongue darting out, wanting a taste. It’s been too long.

‘Do you mean it? Really mean it?’

‘I do.’ It sounds like a wedding vow and he laughs. Because maybe it is.

Alex beams. He opens his mouth to respond, but the annoying woman with the clipboard announces his name, interrupting maybe the most important moment in their nearly twelve-year history. Michael shoots daggers at her, but Alex just surges forward, moving like liquid. Hands on his neck, thumbs at his jawline, lips on his lips. And then gone, stepping on the stage to whoops and hollers and raucous applause. Even in his stupor, he knows most of the noise is coming from Kyle and Greg. Maybe even Maria, a distant hoot from behind the bar.

Michael returns to his chair, ignoring the sly, knowing smiles directed at him from more than just his own table. His attention belongs to Alex and now he no longer has to pretend it doesn’t.

Everyone quiets while he performs. A song not about Michael which he’s secretly grateful for, not sure how he’d managed that much emotion in one night. As Alex sings, Michael’s mind turns over all the possibilities open to them now. There’s so much to discuss, to share, to figure out. And he’s eager, so eager to get started.

When the song ends, everyone stands and applauds. More whooping and hollering. And then he’s back beside Michael, being congratulated by Kyle and Greg, back pats and hugs shared over the sticky table. 

Michael feels drunk, but he’s only had one beer so that’s not possible. His whole body is warm and woozy and his legs wobble when Alex reaches down and threads their fingers together, leading him out of the bar and into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come say hi over on Tumblr. I'm litwitlady over there.


End file.
